LovingYou21

Lance woke up once again, and saw that JC was gone once again. He knew that Chris had told him to leave, but this knowledge didn't make the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach go away. He pulled a shirt on and looked down at the older man in bed next to him. Chris really did care about him, and he normally didn't mind the slightly possessive behavior, but JC just wasn't in the condition where he could be thrown out of a room.

He left the room as quietly as possible and made his way over to JC's room. Lance knocked on the door softly before speaking. "Jace, it's me." He waited for a response, but no sounds came. "I want to talk to you." Still, all that was heard was the distant sound of a vacuum cleaner. He reached into his pocket for the extra key. Lance hated going into a friend's room without his permission then and there, but he really had to talk to JC.

The door creaked open slowly, and Lance peaked in to look around the room. One bed was completely a mess and the bathroom door was open. He listened to the soft music and stepped across the room to the bright light and white tile floors.

"Jace?" Silence. "Please be ok." He slid into the bathroom and looked to the ground. A lanky figure lay on the floor, crimson blood clashing with the stark white of the tiles.

Lance wasn't sure what to do, so he dropped beside his friend. "Jace, wake up." There was no use in calling for help. The cold body was already long dead.

A small folded sheet of paper was next to the sharp, silver bringer of death. Lance unfolded it and read the heartfelt words to himself.-

Lance,

I know you're the one reading this. Who else would come to make sure I was all right? Well, don't worry. I'm fine. No one could ever love me in this world, but maybe in the afterlife I will have hope. After all, God is loving. He will understand, and he will give me the love I need so dearly. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for all of the pain I have caused you and the rest of the guys-no, the rest of the world. I let myself become an aching sore in the smiling mouth of society. Get along without me. This is not your fault. It is not Chris's fault. It is not Joey's fault. It is not Justin's fault. It is not anyone's fault, except my own. I knew in my heart what I was getting myself into with every kiss and every word I ever said in my life. Bye.

JC

--And it was over. Lance placed the blood and tear streaked paper into his pocket, and looked down at the cold, pale face on the ground. He placed a soft towel over the figure and a softer kiss on his clammy forehead before turning off the lights and leaving for his own room.

Lance looked over at Chris, his chest rising and light falling while he slept. He lied back down on the bed, pulling the warm arms around him. The sleeping man unconsciously held on tight to the shivering man who had pressed himself into the spooned position of his own body. Lance soon fell asleep.

~

The next time he woke up, Lance was wrapped in a warm quilt. He looked up to see Joey next to him on the tiny bus. The older man smiled at him, and rubbed his back gently.

"How're you doing?" Joey asked through a grin.

"I'm ok." Lance swallowed, and looked over to the bunks-to the bunk where a long, skinny arm was hanging out of. "I just had a bad dream."

Joey began to stand up, but turned back to face Lance. "Do you want me to stay for a little while?" When the young blond nodded, he sat back down.

"Joe?"

"Yeah."

Lance forced out the next words. "I love you."

Joey went over these words in his head, wondering what they could possibly mean. You could love somebody in so many ways. "I love you, too." He bent over and placed a light kiss on Lance's lips, which left both of them out of breath.

"Thanks." Lance hid a laugh at the only thing he could think to say.

"You're welcome." Joey looked around, and held back a yawn. "I really need to go to bed."

"Ok."

Joey walked over to the sleeping area, but turned around once again. "Good night, Lance."

"Good night."